The Seven Words: Father Forgive Them
by GoddessofSnark
Summary: Father forgive them, they know not what they do. They were mindless killing machines, if they had known that was all they would become, they would have never signed up for this.


A/N this is part of a 7-part series concerning the leadup to the last battle. Yeah, i know, it's a little bit heavy-handed on the bible references, but there's something...that just works about the Death Eaters and biblical references

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_Father, forgive them, they know not what they do. -Luke 23:34_

He looked at the others around him, wondering why they were there. Wondering why he was there. If he had known that this was what he was going to be getting into, he would have never done it. If this was what he had thought it would be, he wouldn't be here. He would have been anywhere but here, standing in the cold.

There had been a time, once, when he might have believed in the cause. There was a time once, when he was young and idealogical, and passionate, wanting to believe in the cause, wanting to believe he was bettering society. He had been promised power and glory. He had been promised wealth unlike any he had known. He had been told that he would be able to sit back and good things would come to him, just by partaking.

If he had known that "partaking" including cold-blooded murder by hand, he would have never signed up. It was one thing to turn a blind eye to it, to support it, so long as you weren't the one doing the killing. It was different, entirely, when you were the one staring the victim down, killing them, watching as they gasp one last time, unable to even come up with a response before they expired. And he had no choice, he would have been killed had he not killed others.

He had been fooled, tricked into this, he had been conned into being just another mindless mechanical tool of death. An instrument of death, that was all he was. He held interest in it, he had to admit it. It was fascinating to look at the dark arts, while he would never outwardly display his eagerness, he had been like a dog on a bone when it came to learning. He enjoyed it, he found it fascinating, it gave him a sense of power.

But with that power, he had been tricked into believing this, believing in this sort of power. He could see it in the others too, none of them had known what they were getting into at the time. Even those that knew they would have to kill found the romanticism of murder quickly gone, faded by the disgust every human faces upon murder.

No matter how strong of a man you believe yourself to be, you cower when killing, when you feel your soul begin to die bit by bit. Until you are left to be no more than a mindless machine. That was what sickened him most. That he could kill and lack remorse for it. It was monstrous. He felt nothing when killing now. Felt nothing at the wracking screams and sobs of a person contorting in the pain of being tortured. He blocked it all out, somehow.

He ceased caring, ceased to know what he was doing. He was a machine, he had been told to do something, so he did it. As did all the others. Everyone there, they had all been promised something, whether it was the romanticised lives they saw in the papers, the idea of being the 'bad boy' the criminal appealing to them, or being promised wealth or power, they were all here on false pretences. They were all here because of something that they had half-heartedly believed in.

None of them had known quite the extent of what they would be pushed to do, none of them had estimated the insanity of the Dark Lord when they had signed up for this. They were forced to, threatened into it. Regulus Black had served as an example of what happened when one tried to leave, when one disobeyed. And all of them would rather be forced to kill rather than be killed.

They could only hope that once they finally died that their ignorance would save them. That their ignorance to how horrible the Dark Lord was would protect them, save their immortal souls. They could only hope that maybe, there was still a chance for salvation in whatever afterlife they chose. This thought kept them sane as they gathered together, waiting for their final blaze of glory, waiting to go out and attempt one last battle for a leader they didn't believe in, for a cause they had become disillusioned towards.


End file.
